


The Imperfections of Humanity

by therealassistant



Series: DRV3 Remnants of Despair au [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, No Anime Brainwashing We Despair Like Real Men, Suicide mention, drug mention, remnants of despair au, t r u s t m e, trust me Kiibo and K1-B0 are almost two entirely different people in the fic, whew lad im going all out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealassistant/pseuds/therealassistant
Summary: No one was perfect, hell, even he wasn't exactly a stunning member of society. Well... After meeting her, maybe he could change that.





	The Imperfections of Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> Alright time to write about how my favorite character in DRV3 is gonna fall into despair. I'm a bit excited to write this, and I hope you all enjoy this fic as much as you enjoyed the last one! 
> 
> I don't own Danganronpa in any way, shape, or form (besides the few games I've played) so please don't sue me

The boy clad in green scowled as he attempted to shake the grease off his gloved hands, scowling once he realized that he, once again, ruined a new pair of gloves.

He sighed in frustration as he took off the gloves, throwing them off to the side into a pile of similar grease stained gloves, before looking over his latest masterpiece. What he would like the call the "perfect" machine, a hint of a smile appearing on his face, before he soon realized that the robot was far from done. It wasn't that big, sure, it was about his height, but he could already tell that the innner workings of it and the AI he would have to create would take a long time. The robot was far from perfect, it was incomplete.

God, he should of realized those letters the school forced him to write would have been a total waste of time. The person he was forced to write to only wrote non-stop about this girl in his class. He could barely remember anything about it. All he could recall was that she was someone of royalty. A princess, maybe? Whatever, he was behind schedule as it is, he didn't want to waste more time thinking about stuff like this. He absolutely had to have his creation done by finals.

No robot to show for in his final meant no Hopes Peak Academy.

No Hopes Peak Academy means no hope of escaping the rural town he had lived him.

No escape of that rural town only meant he was stuck with his senile, almost insane grandpa.

The very thought of once again being stuck in that small, suffocating house, forced to put back together machines everyone from miles around had broken while that old man did nothing but fill the house with smoke was enough motivation for him to grab another wrench off his work bench, rolling up his sleeves. Forget the gloves, he could finish this robot with one hand behind his back if he wanted to.

Before he could resume work, though, a loud, almost annoying voice cut through the room.

"Woooow! This place is totally better than I thought it would be!"

Kiibo nearly jumped out of his skin, only giving a surprised sounding grunt as he turned around, the wrench in his hand raising as he spied the person that had spoken.

She had strawberry blond hair, the clothes she wore almost camouflaged in the darkness if it weren't for the red highlights in them. She was beautiful as well, although Kiibo didn't care for her beauty, for all he could do was stare into her light blue eyes. They were so clear, almost as if they were see through, yet they somehow also contained some sort of secret, a joke or idea that the boy could not understand.

His examination of the other girl only lasted a few seconds, as he was dragged out staring into the other's eyes as she suddenly spoke up, the other giving a peace sign with one hand as she smiled. "Sorry for stumblin' in! The door was open, so I just sorta wandered in!"

Kiibo remained silent and still for a few seconds more, before a sigh left his mouth, shaking his head in exasperation as he turned back around, mumbling towards the other, his throat sore from disuse. "The door was locked, so I doubt there was a lot of "stumbling around" involved..."

The young woman gasped as she almost slapped her cheeks with her hands, her eyes wide as she nearly yelled. "Oh, you got me! I guess there was a little... Improvising going on there..." The click of heels echoed behind Kiibo, before he almost felt the other almost breathing down his neck, although he knew she wouldn't invade a stranger's personal space that much. 

... Would she..?

He was immedaitly proved wrong as a manicured hand gripped his shoulder, causing him to flinch, completely freezing up, the wrench he held almost falling out of his hand as she whispered in his ear. "I **hope** you can forgive me..."

Kiibo didn't move at all in response to what she said.

He didn't say anything.

He could barely even breath.

The two stood there in complete silence, red nails digging through his jacket into his shoulder, almost deep enough to cause blood to spill, before a sudden laugh erupted out of the girl's mouth. She removed her hand from the other's shoulder, nonchalantly rubbing her slightly bloodied nails onto her jacket as she spoke. "Sorry about that, I should've introduced myself first! The name's Junko, Jonko Enoshima-"

Before the other girl could finish her introduction, Kiibo suddenly turned, wrench raised as he looked over towards Junko in a panicked manner.

He had heard about the fashionista before, yet he never paid attention to her "work", he was never interested in something as simple as looks. No, he heard about her from Tsumugi.

Although he barely interacted with anyone, Tsumugi sometimes approached him, wondering how he worked on his robots and if she could possibly somehow use them in her cosplays. Although he could never share how he made some of his creations, it was nice to have a serious conversation with someone about his talent. Iruma was an inventor, yet talks with her usually ended with lewd jokes and uncomfortable goodbyes.

That all changed after the letters started.

Tsumugi was different, and he knew that who she was writing to had to do with her different attitude. His worries were practically confirmed once he asked her why she stopped reading the letters in the classroom while they were talking about how she could use some lights he made for a new cosplay idea she had.

_"She... Understands me, Kiibo..."_

_"But if you simply opened up to others more, then wouldn't you have other people "understand" you more-?"_

_"No, she's not like the others! Here, why don't I have her meet you, and you two could talk! Then you'd understand..."_

He had almost shivered at the sudden derange smile she had, yet it vanished so quickly that the sudden feeling of discomfort vanished just as fast.

Something was **wrong** with that girl.

And it was all Junko's fault.

He was going to stop before this got too far, no matter what.

Yet before he could move once again, it seemed a shadow suddenly grabbed his hand, twisting it so hard that it snapped, causing him to drop the wrench, screaming in pain. Fingers dove into his wrist like pins, drawing blood, before all too quickly, the pin pricking sensation disappeared, yet leaving his wrist broken, dropping to his knees as he gently held his broken wrist, staring down at it. He could barely hear Junko's loud cackling as footsteps that were most certainly not hers grow quieter as seconds went by. "Sorry about that! Sis doesn't really like it when someone is being "threatening" to me! Right, sis?!"

He forced himself to look up as the strawberry blond slapped the back of someone next to her, who almost seemed to try and withdraw into her own clothes as she whispered a "yes" in the most timid voice he had ever heard. 

This was the person that broke his wrist? He couldn't believe it.

He barely had time to think as Junko walked forward, tensing up in anticipation to be hit. So it shocked him when she just kept walking past him, stopping in front of the robot he built. She hummed in thought, placing a hand to her chin as she hummed in thought for a few seconds, her bright blue eyes looking the robot up and down before finally speaking. "What's this supposed to be? Are you trying to stage the robot uprising?"

For some reason he would never understand, even in the future, he spoke up, his voice somehow still over a whisper, as if he never got his wrist almost snapped in half. "It's supposed... To be the perfect machine..."

Junko hummed in confusion as she glanced behind her towards the green clad boy, before the robot again, going silent for a few seconds. Eventually, when she did speak up, her voice was flat, almost emotionless. "... Well, keep in mind that a creation is only as perfect as its creator."

His mouth dropped open at what she had said. He tried to search for a rebuttal, yet his mind was blank. 

He wasn't... Perfect..?

What she said could not be true, he was creating the perfect machine, so by definition, should he not be perfect as well?

No, as long as he had the blood of someone like his grandfather in him, he would never be perfect.

His blood boiled at the thought of his grandfather, for once truly enraged. His parents, who were scientists, had died when he was a baby in some sort of car accident, leaving him with his grandfather. At first, it was fine, his grandfather had picked up a habit of smoking to cope, yet that was it. It couldn't have gotten worse, right?

He was wrong, so, so wrong.

His grandfather only got worse, and although the older man never hit him, the mental abuse Kiibo had suffered still existed today.

No, he was most certainly **not** perfect, all because of his drug addicted grandfather. So nothing he had ever created was even close to being perfect.

He didn't notice, or even care, when Enoshima left with her sister, he didn't even seem to notice the pain he had felt from his broken wrist before. He just sat there, staring up at the robot for what seemed like hours.

Finally, as night was finally starting and the moon rose, Kiibo stood, a smirk slowly appearing on his face as he realized something.

Machines were unlike humans, they had no flaws, as long as you were careful, of course.

He reached forward, holding the hand of the robot he built, running his fingers over each individual wire as he thought over the "project" he will soon conduct.

If he was going to be imperfect as a human, then he should probably change that first.

###### 

"Excuse me, but you want me to do what exactly?"

Kiibo only narrowed his eyes Korekiyo at the other man's question. He couldn't tell whether the other was just being stupid, or playing dumb. It was hard to tell with his former classmate. Still, Kiibo explained again, raising a metallic hand to show the flash-drive in his hand. His voice was completely flat, devoid of anything, almost sounding as if he was some sort of machine.

Well, he almost was, except for most of his head.

"I doubt you are deaf, but I shall explain again so your brain can properly accept the instructions I am giving you. I want you to give this to Iruma, pretty simple, correct?"

The other man didn't move or say anything for a few seconds, the only movement made by the other was the air passing through his ruby red lips. The other had abandoned his mask long ago, altering his face to almost look like his sister's, although nothing else had really changed about him. Finally, the other spoke, his voice taking on a gentle, more feminine tone. "And why, exactly, should we help you?"

The half robot almost smiled at the other's words, almost. The only other time he had ever truly smiled was once he heard about what happened to his stupid, imperfect grandfather. Apparently, once the older man had heard about what had happened to his grandson, he had killed himself in a fit of sorrow.

Killed by his emotions, it was almost pathetic to Kiibo. Yet the dissatisfaction of never having killed the older man with his own metal hands was enough to drive him deeper into despair. 

He didn't dwell on his past for long, though, instead focusing on the man in front of him, narrowing his eyes a bit as he lowered his hands. "Are you simply ignoring all that I have done for you? Without me, your sister wouldn't have so many "friends". Despite how much I despise you imperfect creatures, you owe me a favor". 

At this, Korekiyo's "sister" seemed to be satisfied, or at least acknowledged, with Kiibo's logic, leaving Korekiyo to ask the almost inevitable question. "Why can't you just do this yourself-?"

"I plan on challenging Mukuro Ikusaba."

Korekiyo seemed a bit surprised at the robot interrupting him, yet he wasn't surprised about the other's words. It was no secret that Kiibo had a grudge on Junko's sister, as to why, no one knew the exact details. He had fought the Ultimate Soldier countless times, yet he always lost, with some limbs and body parts missing as well, only to have them replaced by metal.

The former Ultimate Anthropologist did not say anything for what seemed to be forever, before a small chuckle escaped his lips, taking the flash-drive from the other. "Kukuku... Fine, then, I will do as you command, just this once, though. I know you enjoy finding friends for my sister. Don't lie and say you don't."

The half robot did not say anything for a few seconds, before simply shrugging, turning as he waved off Korekiyo, now that what he wished for was done, he had no other reason for talking to the other. "I do not "enjoy" anything, Korekiyo, enjoyment is simply a handicap for imperfect creatures such as yourself. Now, good day."

###### 

The next time Korekiyo saw Kiibo, it was with the rest of the remnants, where Junko suddenly showed them a metallic, bloodied wrist, smiling like a lunatic as she waved it around, boasting about her sister's latest kill.

Yet, unlike the rest of the remnants, who either didn't react, or shed a few tears, both Korikeyo and Iruma remained emotionless.

For just a few miles away, where the half robot, half boy once lived, a new being had awoken just a few hours ago.

The "perfect" creature, the flash-drive plugged into its head ripped out of its skull, crushed into a ball before being thrown away. The memories of the former living remnant entering its mind. The first one to appear was of his grandfather, one of the only times he seemed to be trying to break away from the smoking.

_"Kiibo, one day, you will realize that everyone is perfect in their own little ways." The old man smiled as he ruffled the boy's hair, much to the boy's annoyance, yet a smile was still on his face. "Trust me, everyone makes mistakes, it's just that the mistakes are what makes us better. Remember that."_

_"Alright, grandpa!"_

All too quickly, the robot deleted the file containing that memory, as well as anything else related to that old man.

Kiibo was dead. Brutally killed by Mukuro Ikusaba.

And in his place, K1-B0, the perfect machine, was born.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow okay this was almost more depressing than I thought this would be.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this fic! I'm open to suggestions about which character I should write about next, and I'm also open for any ideas about how the drv3 cast will despair overall. Comments are appreciated and welcomed. Have a nice morning/afternoon/evening.


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